Too Little, Too Late
by Menolly Mark
Summary: Alicia Spinnet is a very busy girl, but Oliver Wood needs a moment to talk about tactics. OliverxAlicia, oneshot.


**Author's Note: **Taking a quick break from "Brevity" to write about a pair that I feel get absolutely no attention in fanon. Could be the beginning to a new set of fics, who knows. Shall post chapter six of "Brevity" by the end of the day, though. Enjoy!

Menolly

**Too Little, Too Late**

By Menolly Mark

"You're not tired already, are you?" Angelina Johnson raised an eyebrow. "It's only eleven o'clock, and you're not done with McGonagall's essay, yet. She's not going to be very pleased if you don't turn it in tomorrow, and you're already on thin ice in that class."

Alicia Spinnet blinked, and attempted to look awake. Rolling over on one side, she rested her chin on her hand and gazed up at Angelina's reproachful expression. "Shut up," she said. "You're one to talk, Angie. Are you ever going to stop telling Professor Flitwick that you're too ill to come to class? Or are you just going to keep pretending to have fainting spells, so that you can spend the whole afternoon in the hospital wing getting concerned visits from Fred Weasley?" Angelina blushed, and Alicia smirked at her. "I'll do my essay in the morning," Alicia assured the taller girl, "so don't nag. You get some sleep too; we've got practice tomorrow night."

"Yeah," agreed Angelina, looking thoughtful. "The match against Slytherin's not two weeks away, now. We've really got to win this time, or Oliver's going to die of the humiliation and shock. Oh, that reminds me." As she spoke, she was curling her long braids up in a makeshift coil at the nape of her neck, to keep it out of her way while she slept. "Are you going to try out for team captain next year? I'd much rather have it be you than Fred or George, and I know they're both thinking about it."

"Oh good god," whispered Alicia, chuckling. "That'd be…well, interesting." She shook her head, and yawned broadly. "No, I don't think I want to be captain," she said, after a moment's consideration. "I think I'd just like to keep playing chaser. You can be in charge. You've got the commanding presence, anyway."

Alicia slipped her blouse over her head, so that only her undershirt remained. Covering herself up in the blankets, she lay down, and tried to find a cool spot for her head on the pillowcase. Angelina snorted. "Commanding presence my arse," she said. "Night, 'Licia."

"Night," Alicia murmured back. She heard Angelina whisper, "Nox," and the magical lights that they'd both put on their bedside tables winked out. In the bed on Alicia's other side, fellow fifth-year Miranda Botts was sleeping very loudly, letting out the occasional snort or sleepy grunt as she turned over and over in the covers. Alicia thought about reaching over and waking the girl up, but something her father had once told her about letting people wake up from their own nightmares forestalled her.

Alicia let her mind wander a bit towards the conversation she and Angelina had just been having. It was true enough that they'd need a new quidditch captain for Gryffindor next year, and she rather thought that Angelina was the best suited for the job. Of course, no one would ever be as good or as devoted a captain as the current one, Oliver Wood, had been. That boy was so intent on his game that it was almost a bit disturbing at times. Even Fred and George had to admit hat Oliver had a way of inspiring people, and they didn't listen to anybody, not really.

Idly, she wondered if Fred was ever going to ask Angelina out. Lee Jordan did it about twice a week, but Alicia knew that Angelina was waiting in hopes that Fred would decide it was his turn. Honestly, she thought, she'd have been perfectly happy with Lee. He was a good-looking boy, very funny, very smart…even if he did keep a giant pet spider. Everyone had their personality quirks. It was a shame that with quidditch, and classes, and OWLs approaching quickly that neitiher Alicia, nor Angelina had a great deal of time for boys. It wasn't for lack of trying, but something always seemed to get in the way of romance. Figures, thought Alicia sourly.

A tapping sound from somewhere to her right snapped Alicia out of her displeased thoughts. She glanced over at Miranda's bed, wondering if the girl had finally fallen out. Miranda was still snoring and mumbling incoherently to herself, however. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, Alicia padded quietly around her bed, and past Miranda's, towards the window. The tapping sound must be coming from there, she decided. Maybe someone's owl had gotten lost and was trying to get in through the dormitories.

A dark shape was hovering just outside of the Gryffindor windows. It wasn't an owl, however, Alicia realized. It was far too big to be an owl. As the shape bobbed up and down before her eyes, she saw that it was a boy on a broomstick, sitting right up close to the front of the broom, trying to peer in at the sleeping girls. Alicia's ire rose. So, they had a peeping tom about the dormitories, did they? Well, she'd take care of that right quickly.

Reaching down, she pulled at the window, sliding it upwards, so that a blast of slightly chilly night air made its way into the room. Miranda grunted again behind her, and Alicia turned, but the girl was still fast asleep.

"Hullo, Alicia," came a male voice from just outside. "Pretty night."

Alicia blinked. She knew that voice very well. Staring into the darkness, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the change in lighting, trying to see the face of the boy in question. As his outline became clearer against the backdrop of the Hogwarts campus at night, Alicia recognized Oliver Wood's unmistakable profile, and dropped the hand that she'd been putting out to push him away from the window. He smiled at her, inclining his head. "Sorry," he added, "did I wake you up?"

"Um…I…what? Yes!" Alicia stammered. "It's eleven o'clock in the bloody evening, Oliver. What are you doing on that broom? You're going to be in a lot of trouble if any of the teachers see you out there."

"Yeah," agreed Oliver, glancing at the ground, a long ways belong him. "That's probably true. Better keep our voices down."

"What," insisted Alicia pointedly, "are you doing outside the girls' dormitory?"

He seemed to have to think about that for a moment before he answered. "Well," he started, somewhat awkwardly, "I was thinking, and I just decided that I really needed to tell you….well, I really needed to ask you something about the game. You know, the Slytherin game."

There was a short, silent pause, during which Alicia opened her mouth slightly, incredulous. "You're hovering outside my room at eleven o'clock at night on a broomstick because you want to talk about quidditch strategy?"

"Um. Yes," agreed Oliver, a bit too firmly. "No time like the present, you know. How about it? Want to go for a quick ride with me? Can't talk in here, we'll wake everybody up."

Alicia burst out laughing, and then had to cover her mouth to prevent her laughter from carrying back to Miranda and Angelina's beds. "You're insane, Oliver," she said, "you're absolutely barmy. You make me laugh. We can talk about it in the morning, all right? It's late. I'm going back to bed. Goodnight."

She made as if to leave, but Oliver's arm shot through the window, and he grabbed her wrist. "Wait a moment," he said, "come on, don't run off like that. It'll only take a few minutes, you wont' lose a lot of sleep. Take one for the team, won't you?"

Alicia sighed. Angelina was right, she had that essay to write in the morning, and staying out late talking about evasive maneuvers and new kinds of quidditch passes was hardly a good idea. At the same time, Oliver had that look in his eyes that made her want to do whatever he asked. That, she decided, was probably what made him such an effective captain. He really could get a person to agree to absolutely anything, even a ridiculous jaunt like this one. "Fine," she said, "fine. But only a few minutes I've got work to do."

"You're a saint," beamed Oliver, and Alicia shook her head at him. Glancing behind her once more to check that no one had noticed, she flung one leg out of the window, and half-leapt, half-fell on to the broom. Alicia's natural athletic abilities prevented her from taking the plunge down to the Hogwarts grounds, and she landed lightly enough on the front of the broom, so that Oliver had to stagger back slightly to give her room. Very carefully, she maneuvered around him, essentially climbing over him to get to the back of the broom, where she managed to sit down more comfortably behind him.

"That was impressive," said Oliver, his eyes wide. "You really know how to use one of these."

"Thanks," said Alicia. "You've noticed at last. I'm flattered."

Oliver wheeled the broom around, and away from the window. Alicia thought, all too late, that she should have closed it behind her, but she didn't have the opportunity as they flew over the Hogwarts grounds, towards the Whomping Willow. Alarmed, Alicia squeezed her hands on Oliver's shoulders. "Where are we going?" she asked him. "I don't' want to take a broomstick over near that awful tree, we'll get ourselves killed."

"Don't worry," Oliver assured her, "we'll steer clear of the tree."

They touched down several feet away from the Whomping Willow, far out of reach of it's branches. Alicia was still a bit concerned, and she put Oliver in between herself and the irascible plant. Oliver grinned.

"So," said Alicia, "what did you want to tell me about strategy? Is this going to apply only to Slytherin, or to the Hufflepuff match, as well?"

Oliver didn't say anything for a moment. "Both matches," he said finally. Then, lying down on his back in the grass, he pointed up at the sky with one long finger. "It really is pretty out, you know. Lots of stars…and all that."

Alicia glanced over at him. "Yeah," she agreed, a bit confused. "Lots of stars, that's for sure."

Oliver nodded. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, and Alicia felt the color begin to rise in her face. Things were suddenly becoming a good deal clearer, and she realized the real reason that she must be out here on the grounds in the middle of the night. Oliver was trying terribly hard to be romantic, and he was absolutely horrible at it. Maybe he wasn't really used to it.

"We're not here to talk about quidditch, are we?" she said, and it was more of a statement than a question. Oliver looked concerned, and out of his depth.

"Ah," he said, "well…not as such. No."

"Okay." Alicia lay down next to Oliver, so that she could see his face. He looked almost comically frustrated, and she had to stifle a giggle, even though she wasn't sure how she herself felt about things at the moment. "Then, what are we here to talk about?"

Oliver propped himself up on his elbows, and looked right into Alicia's face. He opened his mouth to speak, and nothing came out of it. Blinking confusedly, he tried again, and this time, managed only an incoherent syllable before falling silent again.

"You know," said Alicia, a slow grin spreading across her face, "you're not excellent with girls. I would have thought that a dashing, quidditch captain like yourself would have all sorts of experience with this sort of thing."

"I do!" insisted Oliver quickly. Alicia raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" she asked pointedly. "Then I'm one of several, am I?"

Oliver looked absolutely horrified. "No!" he said, "no, of course you're not! Oh…good lord." He buried his face in his hands, and Alicia was both touched and sorry at the same time. "Look," he said, making a valiant, manly effort to compose himself and handle the issue rationally. "You're a really excellent chaser. Really top-notch."

"Oh?" asked Alicia. "Well, thank you, team captain Wood. So glad that I meet your standards."

"And," continued Oliver doggedly, "you're really, really pretty. And you're really very nice, and…I'd really, really like you to go out with me. If you…would like that," he added, smiling hopefully at her. "I'm sorry that I'm not very good at this," he said, "but you're fantastic, and I'm nervous as hell, for what it's worth."

Alicia looked at him thoughtfully, wondering. He was certainly gorgeous, and she couldn't deny that she, like every other girl at school was definitely attracted to him. He was hard-working, vibrant, energetic, appealing in all sorts of different ways. Had she ever given herself the chance to consider Oliver as anything more than the gung-ho captain of her quidditch team before, she might have been head-over-heels for him for years. Unfortunately for him, she hadn't, and she wasn't. Besides, she really didn't have the time.

"I'm really busy, Oliver," she said, trying to be as gentle as she could. "I just don't think it makes sense for me to get involved with anyone right now. You know? It's not anything personal, mind you. I'm flattered, and you're a wonderful guy…"

Oliver's face fell, and he looked absolutely crestfallen. Alicia felt a pang of self-disgust that she'd turned him down so quickly, but she believed strongly in honesty being the best policy. "Right," he said, too briskly. "Right, of course. I completely understand."

"I'm so sorry," she said again, and she meant it.

"No," insisted Oliver, not looking at her, "it all makes perfect sense. It's okay, don't worry about it. And I…don't want this to affect the game at all, of course. So…let's just pretend it didn't happen, shall we?"

Alicia sighed. Of course he didn't want it to affect the game. The game was the only thing that really mattered. Perhaps that was way she'd never even thought about him as a boy, or even a real person before. If only he would pull his head out of quidditch for five minutes…but then, he had, just now, and she'd rejected him. Too little, too late, she thought regretfully. "Definitely," she agreed. "Won't hurt the team at all."

Oliver stood up, and Alicia followed suit. They got back on his broom and took off in silence, heading towards Gryffindor tower. As they approached, Alicia noticed that someone had closed the window. Angelina was sitting on the floor next to Miranda's bed, watching Alicia's arrival intently, with ha curious, expectant expression on her face. Alicia winced.

"Hey," said Oliver, as Angelina reached out to open the window for her friend. "Listen. Can I…ask you out again sometime? Maybe a little later?"

Alicia smiled. "Yeah," she said, "you can do that."

"Fantastic. Great." Oliver grinned at her again, and she was relieved to see that he looked a little less downtrodden, and significantly more hopeful. "Have a good night, Alicia."

He soared off as Alicia closed the window, and turned to face Angelina. Angelina didn't say anything at first, but just watched Alicia, waiting for her to be the first to speak.

Instead, Alicia walked back around Miranda's bed, and over to her own. She settled herself back into it, and buried her face in between the pillows. Angelina crossed over to the edge of Alicia's bed, and made a resigned sort of tutting sound. "G'night, then," she said simply, and went back to her own bed.

Alicia watched the window, remarking to herself that, for all of the awkwardness, the stars really were very pretty tonight.


End file.
